I stop us a good distance away, pulling her behind a wide, ancient trunk. Her back presses against me, my arm wrapping securely over her waist to keep her steady and close to me. We peek out together, the cold wood of the tree biting into my cheek as I scan the scene ahead.
The air in the clearing reeks and it jogs memories I’ve tried to suppress. It’s a smell I’ve known before, one that tells me I’m standing in a place where something horrific has happened—and where something worse is about to.
The red glow from the torch's dances on the pointed stone altar in the center, the shadows twisting around it like they’re alive. The altar is old—ancient, maybe—with dark stains marking its surface.Blood. I’ve seen enough to know it’s fucking blood. That means I’m late. My jaw clenches as I take everything in, a sick rage brewing in my chest, my palms sweating.
Around the altar, a group of figures stand in a wide circle, all wearing black robes that blend with the darkness of the trees. Their faces are hidden beneath their hoods as always and their movements synchronize, the performance done thousands of times before this. One of them steps forward, raising a rod with a carved, twisted end that glints in the firelight. It catchesmy attention immediately. Symbols I don’t understand, yet instinctively hate, snake up the length of it.
Low chanting fills the air, a gruff, unsettling hum that starts to pull at my sanity. It’s rhythmic, growing louder with every passing second, until it’s all I can fucking hear. I can feel its intent—dark, hungry, cruel. Flash backs dash through my mind and I shut my eyes, attempting to block them out. My own ritual and what happened after. I drop my head, placing my forehead on Kitten’s hair, taking a deep inhale, her sweetness flooding my dark senses and temporarily clearing my mind.
I lift my head, and glance down at Raven, her face pale under her hood, but she doesn’t make a sound. I see the look in her eyes, wide and shimmering in the torchlight, I see the fear. The confusion.
She doesn’t know what this is yet. Not really. But I do.
This isn’t just a ritual. This is the lead-up. The preparation. These cunt’s are getting ready for someone and they’re building into something more than a ritual. Maybe a sacrifice.
“What is this, Ty?” she whispers so I can only hear.
I dip my head, my chin resting on her shoulder and I feel her trembling arms tighten around mine
“This is the world through my eyes,” I murmur. “The part of the world no one talks about. The part people pretend doesn’t exist.”
As if on cue, the first of them emerge from the tree line—children. Their small bodies are dragged into place, lined up against the shadowed woods. I hear Raven’s breath hitch in her throat. My stomach twists as I watch their wide, trusting eyes, their faces untouched by anything except innocence. The moment crashes down on me, but I shove my emotions into the dark corners of my mind. This isn’t about me. It’s about her. It’sabout showing her—this is who the fuck I am. This is why I did what I did. Why I’ll continue doing it until I’ve gotten what I want.
A tiny figure, barely more than a toddler, is yanked forward by a hooded figure. His cries tear through the woods as he’s dragged, his parents trailing just behind him, dressed in their pristine suits. Their faces are cold, emotionless, as if nothing out of place is happening. But the boy, with his chubby hands reaching for them, his voice a desperate whimper, calls out,
“Mommy!” The cry echoes, piercing the night, and Raven wheezes. I feel her body stiffen, and my chest clenches as her sob rises, threatening to break free.
She takes a step forward, her instincts kicking in, her body already wanting to help, to save him. But I can’t let her. I can’t let her interfere with this, not yet. Not until she’s seen the full truth. My hand shoots up, pressing gently but firmly over her mouth, and I pull her back into me, feeling her soft breath against my palm as she struggles to hold it in.
“Shhh…” I hush against her ear. I feel her body trembling in my arms, her tears slipping down my fingers as they fall from her eyes. I can’t even bring myself to look at her—at how broken she’s already becoming, how she’s slipping away from her innocence with every second that passes.
The boy is laid onto the altar, his limbs shaking, but the parents just stand there. Silent. Watching. The hooded figures circle around him, their chants rising like a frustrating wave.
Raven pulls my hand down from her mouth. “Please, Ty,” she whispers, almost pleading. “Tell me what I’m about to see before I see it.”
“It’s a ritual,” I say, trailing off, the reality of it all settling deep in my chest. It’s not just a ritual, though. It’s the beginning of something far worse.
“But his parents… they’re just… letting it happen?” She hisses, the horror and anger creeping into her gaze. “They’re just watching.”
She spins in my arms, her eyes wide, frantic, searching mine for the truth she’s not sure she wants to hear. “Are they going to kill him?”
I glance over at the ritual before my eyes flitting back to hers and I respond. “I don’t know. They’re all different. Some are just rituals. Some are sacrifices. Some are… lessons.”
“Lessons?” She repeats, her brows knitting together in confusion. She’s trying to piece it together, but it’s so much, too much and I can’t bring myself to shield her from the truth any longer.
I swallow hard, keeping my voice as steady as I can. “They’re abused, Kitten,” I whisper. “It could be a beating, or it could be rape.”
Her eyes widen, and I see the tears spill freely from her eyes now, her face twisting in a mixture of horror, confusion, and something like guilt. I can feel her breaking; her innocent mind cracked by a world she never asked to be part of.
“This is what happens when power and corruption collide, beautiful girl. They don’t just destroy bodies—they destroy souls. Innocent souls.”
She shakes her head frantically, her hands taking my hoodie, pulling me down closer to her. The sound of the little boy’s cries rips through the air, growing louder, more desperate with each passing second. Raven’s body trembles, and I can feel the heat ofher tears burning into my skin as she presses her face into mine, pleading with me.
“You have to stop this. Why aren’t you doing anything?”
Her words are like a physical blow. They hit me so hard I feel them deep in my chest, striking at the very core of me. I want to stop this. I want to reach out, to rip this world apart, to take that boy in my arms and run—get him as far away from here as I fucking can. But I know I can’t. I know that if I even tried, it wouldn’t change a damn thing.
I shake my head once and press my forehead against hers, closing my teary eyes, her question burning in ways I can’t even explain.